


Of Course

by gloomy_loom



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Virgil being angsty cause he's virgil, but mostly just sweet, could be platonic or romantic, whatever you prefer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-18 22:31:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16128086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloomy_loom/pseuds/gloomy_loom
Summary: Virgil's only ever had one response when it comes to the others.





	Of Course

 

 

 

Virgil lived in grey.

He didn’t mean to sound so dramatic or emo about it (despite what Creativity might say).  It wasn’t some huge, momentous statement or anything. It was just a fact of his life- if he could really even be called “living”, being a part of another person.

Whatever, the point was:  Virgil not-quite-lived in grey.  It was just how it was- anxiety was neutral, capable of being equally good or bad, helpful or hindering, life-saving or life-ruining.  It all depended on the person, and their mind, and their life. How they were coded to be, and how they chose to be.

Thomas was a good person.  He was kind, positive, sensitive, understanding.  But at his core, Thomas was emotional, _really_ emotional.  And emotion could swing either way, especially when it was strong.  So Virgil lived in greys, sometimes swinging hard enough to hit ‘bad’ or ‘good’, mostly just providing a subtle guidance and only kicking in with any strength during emergencies.

Until, that is, Thomas hit puberty.

Fucking thanks, hormones.

\--

By the time things had calmed down the other Sides were set in their opinions of him.  (And, unfortunately, Thomas himself had become aware of him, and Virgil didn’t know how to feel about that).  Of course Morality was as kind as ever, but Virgil knew he made the mock father figure just a little too uncomfortable.  Logic was mostly unbiased, so it was possible he was just indifferent, which Virgil didn’t mind all that much, even if he got so painfully lonely sometimes.  And Princey… well. The Prince had never much liked Anxiety; when they were young he’d felt that Virgil’s attempts to keep Thomas from death got in the way of his dream chasing.  As they got older, and Virgil’s fears and control over Thomas grew, Roman only believed it all the more.

Virgil figured that was just the way things were.  They’d never been all that close, and he didn’t need to be liked (Thomas’ fear of rejection gave away the lie here, but he didn’t need to acknowledge that).  It didn’t matter, and it wouldn’t change, so he might as well get used to it.

\--

He hadn’t expected to care about them quite so much, though.

\--

Anxiety had always cared about the others, of course- he was both the survival instinct and the protective instinct, after all.  But then Thomas started making the videos, and they were all forced to spend time together and actually _talk_ to each other, beyond just insults (though there were a lot of those, too).  And, more quickly than he’d thought, he’d gotten to know the others on a more personal level.

Patton was as loving as Virgil had always thought- not to mention funnier.  Logan was smart, full of a wonder over new things, and so much kinder than he realized.  And Roman…

Roman was everything Anxiety wasn’t.

Brave.  Strong. Charming.  The Prince never let anything as trivial as anxiety stop him, never let his own fears get in the way of creation.  But, beyond even that-

Roman had absolutely no trouble talking to the others, being friends with them.  He didn’t stutter, didn’t avoid eye contact, didn’t shake when faced with something as utterly stupid as _conversation_.  Roman didn’t feel the need to hide to avoid a panic attack.  He could be better, be good enough and bright enough, and Virgil couldn’t help but resent him for that.

\--

And even if _they_ couldn’t love _him_ , he couldn’t help but-

\--

“Hiya, kiddo!”  Morality chirped at him from in front of the oven, glasses sitting crooked above a blinding smile.

Virgil nodded slightly, sliding past him towards the coffee pot.  “Hey, Mo.”

“I was just making some cookies!  I know it’s a little late, but,” Patton winked at him, leaning close in a cartoonishly conspiring way, “I think we deserve to live a little dangerous, huh?”

He shrugged in response, but he couldn’t help a small smile.  The “Dad” Side tended to do that to people. Patton _had_ to be where all that goodness Thomas exuded came from, Anxiety was sure.  His levels of sweetness could cause cavities, and Virgil was damn sure it didn’t come from _him_.

When he turned back around, coffee in hand, he paused.  The other Side was standing, still, in the middle of the kitchen, eyes on the oven.  This in and of itself was not unusual; Patton always got excited when baking, and liked to watch the cookies turn golden as they found their shape.  But something was different, here. There was no smile, no giddy gleam in his hazel eyes, no barely suppressed bouncing or cheerful humming. Patton didn’t even seem to be seeing the oven, eyes gone distant and uncharacteristically quiet.  Virgil had never seen him so… muted.

“... Hey.”

The other jerked slightly at Virgil’s rasp, before smiling big at him.  “Yeah, kiddo? Did you need something? Are you okay?”

“Uh, I’m good.  Are… you… ?” Virgil asked, hesitant.  He wasn’t any good at this, at talking to people.  Sure, he could trade quips with Princey, and listen to Logic ramble every once in a while, but when it came to actual conversation he just got too nervous too quickly.

“I’m great!  With cookies on the way, how could anyone feel _crummy_?”

Virgil snorted at the pun, biting down on his smile.  “Nice.”

Patton’s grin turned more genuine (though it was hard to tell, which scared him a little- Patton shouldn’t be this good at pretending, at hiding whatever he was hiding.  It was _Patton_ ).

“Wanna hear some more cookie jokes?  Some of ‘em are pretty _sweet_!”

Morality giggled at his own pun, hands clasping together and joy melting into something almost entirely real.

And, really, what could Virgil say, in the face of that?

On a quiet sigh of relief, he murmured, “Of course.”

Patton didn’t seem to question how out of character he was acting, thankfully.

\--

Virgil winced at each _clack_.  He never would have said anyone could type passive aggressively, but Logic had apparently figured it out.  The self-proclaimed “unbiased” Side was working determinedly on his laptop, which he’d set up at the breakfast bar that morning and seemingly hadn’t moved from since.

Anxiety considered him quietly from the table, watching sidelong without turning his face from his phone.  Logan’s stiff, tense shoulders and slightly hunched posture practically radiated his irritation, and each just- _slightly_ -too-forceful clack on the keyboard only seemed to wind him even tighter.

Without a word, Virgil calmly stood and moved to the stove.  Logic twitched, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge him at all, until the darker trait set a gently steaming cup of green tea at his side.  This seemed to finally jerk the overworked Side’s attention from whatever document he was working on- wide eyes, the exact same shade as Thomas’ because Logan was _Logic_ and thus unchanged by fancies of the mindspace, stared blankly at Anxiety for a moment before roving slowly to the cup by his elbow.

Virgil turned away without waiting for a response, palms gone clammy at his own ridiculous actions ( _why would you do that you probably made it wrong he probably thinks you’re weird you should just mind your own business fuck_ ) and wanting nothing more than to hide in his room for a while.

“Thank you, Anxiety.”

So softly he doubted the other could hear, and without turning back:  “Of course.”

\--

When Roman found him in the living room, one of the rare times Anxiety was hanging out in there (sometime he just needed to get out of his room, and the voices it loosed on him all night), he knew it was going to be one of those days.  One of those conversations.

Virgil tensed slightly, and when Roman snapped _“Jason Toddler”_  In greeting, he was sure.  The darker Side steeled himself.

“‘Sup, Princey.  What’s with the hair, get in a fight with your pillow this morning?”

Just like he’d expected, Roman turned sharply on Virgil, who stood automatically, hiding his shaking hands in his hoodie pockets.

“Really, _Ob_ noxious Fumes?  ‘Cause I don’t think anyone who looks like they fell out of a cybergoth’s fantasy has the right - or fashion sense enough - to be making comments.”  The Prince snapped, face darker than Virgil’s comment had warranted, and the embodiment of anxiety braced himself. He knew Roman needed this, needed to lash out somehow, and that it couldn’t be at Patton, who'd be heartbroken, or Logan who’d take it too personally.

Virgil had always made a good scapegoat.

It was another ten minutes of increasingly cutting quips before they got loud enough that Logan heard them and harsh enough that Patton felt them through Thomas.

 _“Stop!”_  Their heart yelled, silencing both of them (though anxiety had calmed as soon as the other entered the room- he couldn’t handle the thought of catching Patton in the cross-fire).

Roman finally stepped away, and already he could see something loosened in the others frame, as strange as it seemed.  Patton glared them down, and Logan shot them a disapproving glance before returning to his room to read or finish whatever they’d distracted him from.

“Thanks for the pointless argument,”  Roman snarled, heavy with sarcasm and laced with a hidden, desperate kind of honesty.

“Of _course_ , Princey.  Any time.”

 

\--

 

Virgil never thought himself capable of leaving them, leaving Thomas, but he’s always been a selfish creature ( _he’s better off without me they’ll be so much happier what do I even give them what can I offer without hurting them fucking buck up they’ll be happier this way just_ **_leave_ ** ).

Still, he hates himself a little more after, and he’s not sure if it’s for leaving or for waiting so long to do it.

\--

And then they come for him.

\--

They learn his name. ( _My name is Virgil- there, it’s like a bandaid, just rip it off-_ )

\--

They don’t leave.  He still doesn’t know what to do with that.

\--

“Kiddo?”

Virgil’s gaze flicks up from his phone, instantly aware of how pale and tired Patton looks, freckles stark against his usually pink-flushed cheeks.  “Yeah, Pat?”

The other grins at him, still too good at lying for Virgil to be at all comfortable with.  “I don’t want to bother you, and it’s nothing at all important really, I just wanted to ask- if you’re not busy, y’know, if you might-”

“What do you need, Patton?”  Their heart’s smile falters a little at his quiet rasp, but he tries again.

“Oh, I was just wondering if you’d like to watch some cartoons with your ol’ fun-loving father figure friendo.  If you’re not busy.”

And Virgil’s still learning how to let himself be so openly gentle, but Patton’s never been all that hard for him to reach for, and really, what else could he say?

“Of course.”

\--

He glances up at Logan’s arrival, and can’t help a small smile.  The other Side carries an Agatha Christie book in one hand, coffee mug in the other, and he actually bumps into the door jam on his way in, eyes glued to the pages.

“Hey, Logan.”

His head jerks up at Virgil’s voice, and he offers a small nod, something warming in his face.  Virgil doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to that reaction, can’t stop his smile or the shaking in his hands.

“Hello, Virgil.  How are you?”

“Good,” he murmurs, ducking slightly to see the cover of Logan’s book as the other sits at the counter beside him.  “What’s the latest research topic?”

The Sides eyes light up, and he straightens, hands darting up to gesture as he flies into a ramble about something to do with the stars.  Virgil watches quietly, sipping at his coffee, and humming at the right moments to show his attention. Logan has a problem with being heard- he gets defensive if he feels like the person he’s speaking to doesn’t care about what he has to say, and he’ll stop talking altogether.

After an hour or so, Logic’s words peter out, and he adjusts his glasses self-consciously.  “Thank you for asking. I… hm, yes, thank you.”

Virgil’s lips quirk at Logan’s awkward cough, and he stands to refill their mugs.  “Of course.”

\--

“Hello, Cloud Gloom.”  Roman’s grand pronounciation seems strangely subdued, though it isn’t super obvious.

“‘Sup, Roman.”  Virgil watches him steadily, still and calm (he’s still getting used to not tensing up when the other walks in).  Roman holds up well enough for a few seconds, and then starts to squirm under his gaze.

“So, what are you angsting about in this little corner of the mindscape?”

Virgil raises an eyebrow and casts a pointed look around the common room he’s currently occupying.  Roman shifts uncomfortably before throwing his body into motion again, all grand gestures and determination.  “Well, no need to be shy, Welcome to the Purple Parade.”

Virgil tilts his head slightly, dropping his gaze back to his phone.  “C’mere.”

Roman stutters to a halt.  “What?”

“Come here.”  The darker trait nods to the couch next to him, glancing up only briefly.

Roman hesitates, seems to consider fleeing, but eventually moves to perch beside him.  Virgil holds still for a minute, letting the other relax, before shifting over to rest his weight against the royal.  The other stiffens in shock at the contact, but Virgil ignores it, queueing up a buzzfeed video he knows Roman will like and settling in, weight firmly holding the other Side in place.

Gradually, he relaxes, and the darker trait elects not to mention it.  Just pulls up another video, resolved to pretend this isn’t happening if it’ll make the both of them less awkward.

Of course, Roman never does what’s expected of him.

“... Virgil?”

“Yeah, Princey?”

“... Thanks.”

And, really, Virgil has only ever had one response when it comes to these three.

“Of course.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Soundtrack:
> 
> Could You Be Mine? - Billy Raffoul  
> Until the Hurting Is Gone - Billy Raffoul  
> I Found (Acoustic) - Amber Run  
> You Be Love (Acoustic) - Billy Raffoul  
> Need the Sun to Break - James Bay


End file.
